


Matinal Proposals

by InsertSthMeaningful



Series: The Duty of a King [2]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Erik Lehnsherr, Canon Disabled Character, Charles You Slut, Erik You Slut, M/M, Morning Sex, Sharing a Bed, Topping from the Bottom, and there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28449543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: After a rather exciting night of forging an, ahem,alliancebetween their kingdoms, Charles of Westchester and Erik of Genosha are expected to return to their kingly duties and friendly diplomacy. Erik, however, has plans to continue the negotiations.And in all honesty, it's not like Charles is complaining.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: The Duty of a King [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114064
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	Matinal Proposals

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by me, myself and I so please forgive an potential spelling and/or grammar mistakes.   
> ~~Did I rush this just so I could post Cherik smut on the last day of 2020 and be done with it? Do I not care for all the anatomical inaccuracies because it's just too much work to make it realistic? It's more likely than you would think!~~

Charles woke to the morning sunlight slanting in through the heavy brocade curtains - and to Erik Lehnsherr of Genosha curled into his side. Outside, in the bare branches of the oak tree that had been growing in the middle of the courtyard ever since the castle’s foundations had been laid, a lonely robin warbled.

Careful not to disturb the sleeper by his side, Charles brought up a hand and rubbed the last remnants of dream from his eyes. Then, he blinked. The chapel clock was striking eight hours in the morning.

“Too early,” he muttered, watching as his breath congealed in the freezing air of the room. The warmth of the fire hadn’t held out long against the winter cold, and now, even swathed in layers upon layers of blankets, Charles felt his skin grow goosebumps.

He wondered. Should he call for Moira and a servant to light the fire so it would be agreeably warm when Lehnsherr inevitably woke, too? It was certainly a tempting prospect, now that the feeling was already seeping from his stiff fingers. Only the fact that he couldn’t feel his toes didn’t count – he hadn’t felt his toes for years now.

Charles chuckled quietly at his own bad joke. God, how bored a man had to be…

His attention was drawn away from the freezing cold as Lehnsherr by his side stirred and pushed a quiet mewl. Charles’ heart leapt into his throat – he had woken the Genoshan King with his own antics.

Gently, he turned his head and watched as Lehnsherr’s eyelashes fluttered once, twice. The King’s lips were drawn into a discontented pout, his eyebrows furrowed, his snow-white hair ruffled with sleep. He had one arm thrown over Charles’ chest, a possessive hand curled into the fabric of his nightgown as awareness of his surroundings slowly seeped into his surface thoughts. Still, he seemed utterly unwilling to fully wake up.

Despite himself, Charles felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. His fingers twitched. He itched to card them through Lehnsherr’s bed hair, to have them cup those well-formed cheekbones, that wilful chin.

What sound would he draw from Erik’s lips with his touch? What reaction would he evoke?

The Genoshan King moaned quietly, burying his head at Charles’ shoulder, and the King of Westchester, enthralled with the shiver the touch sent down his spine, gave in to his depraved urge.

With a steady hand, he reached out and smoothed his knuckles over Erik’s cheek in soft strokes.

“Hrm,” the Genoshan King groused, muffled against the fabric of Charles’ nightgown even as he turned into the touch like a blossom to the sunlight. At last, his gossamer eyelids peeled back to reveal the grey-green of his gaze which immediately fixed upon Charles.

“Your Majesty,” he murmured after one long, quiet moment. “Good morning.”

Charles said nothing back. He was far too occupied with Lehnsherr’s hand on his as the King of Genosha laced their fingers together and nuzzled into his touch. His breath, hot and humid, clashed with Charles’ stiff fingertips.

“You’re freezing,” Erik stated matter-of-factly, words muffled with his lips pressed against Charles’ knuckles. “Your Westchesterian architects ought to reconsider their choices.”

Charles chuckled, feeling sudden giddiness fan out in his chest. “Oh, our contemporary builders cannot be blamed. It’s rather the architects from five centuries ago who are at fault. Shall I call for the fire to be rekindled?”

Erik shot him a look like he had just suggested they ride to war against each other. The bed creaked as he propped himself up on his elbows, face hovering just inches above Charles’.

“I think we will manage just well ourselves – won’t we, my King?” he murmured. Then, when Charles looked back in what even he had to admit was a rather bewildered manner, the Genoshan regent grinned, leaned down and sealed Charles’ lips shut in a kiss.

Morning breath be damned, Charles could not possibly have imagined a more pleasant way to start his day. Still, as soon as Erik’s tongue began probing the depths of his mouth, he pulled back, already feeling a blush bloom high up on his unshaven cheeks.

“I thought the traditional Genoshan way of sealing our alliance was a one-time thing, dear friend,” he explained upon catching a wave of confusion rolling his way off Erik’s mind. “This night, the kiss…”

Dismay passed over the Genoshan Kings face like a shadow on a sunny winter day, and he pursed his beautiful lips. In the twilight of the room, he was nothing more but a silhouette haloed in dusty light as he shrugged off the covers, climbed over Charles’ inert legs and set foot onto the stone floor.

Charles watched and frowned. “Your feet are still bare. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Very.”

With a flick of Erik’s fingers, the curtains pulled back, and the morning sunlight streamed unhindered in through the window’s bull’s eye pane. Charles blinked, blinded by the sudden brightness, and when he could see again, the King of Genosha was standing by the windowsill, gazing out onto the bustle of courtyard below.

Then, without much ceremony, he undid the laces holding the back of his nightgown together and started to strip down.

“Ah.” Charles froze in the process of propping himself up against the headboard, pillow in hand. “Your Majesty – what are you doing?”

“Continuing the negotiations,” Lehnsherr replied, nimble fingers sliding his nightgown over his head and shucking out of his breeches until he was stood there in the nude, trim waist and broad shoulders outlined in sharp juts and angles against the stark morning glare.

Charles felt his blush deepen. Erik did indeed make an alluring image, standing bare in the middle of his bedchambers, utterly unashamed of his nudity as he turned to lock eyes with Charles. His gaze burned with cold fire.

“People might see,” Charles muttered, but by then Erik had already stepped back from the window and come to kneel on the mattress by Charles’ feet. Slowly, he curled his fingers into the covers and pulled.

Charles flicked his gaze down to Erik’s lap – and immediately back up. Erik’s prick lay half-hard between his thighs, his evident arousal painting a lovely blush all down his cheeks and over his collarbones.

“Please, your Majesty,” he breathed, and Charles went light-headed with the knowledge that this was Erik of Genosha – solitary, steel-hearted Erik of Genosha, famed for his pride – who was sat there begging on his bedspread, “please, accept this show of my loyalty towards you.”

Charles found himself speaking ere his heart had done a beat. “Well, I can hardly decline your request, now can I?”

A knowing grin tugged at the corners of Erik’s mouth. “No.” Then, he threw back the covers and bent down to nuzzle Charles’ crotch.

Charles didn’t moan. All that fell from his lips was a quiet “Ah” as he buried his fingers in Lehnsherr’s hair, just to feel something, and tugged.

Gasping, Erik let off from mouthing at Charles’ cock through the fabric of his breeches and looked up. A thin sheen of saliva and sweat glinted on his upper lip. Charles longed to reach out, draw him in close and kiss the wetness right off.

“Fuck me,” Erik breathed, and Charles’ heart missed a beat. “I want to take your cock right up my-”

“I can’t,” Charles interrupted him, anger which was directed at no one in particular kindling in his chest. “I’d love to- to _have_ you, dear friend, but it takes too long for me to- well.”

Too late, he noticed that he still had a tight grip on Lehnsherr’s hair. The Genoshan King pressed into his touch, a strange kind of satisfaction pouring off him.

“Your steward will only wake us at nine hours, won’t she?” he murmured conspiratorially, and when Charles nodded slowly, he grinned. “Still one whole hour to help your little issue, then.”

Oh dear.

Charles opened his mouth to protest half-heartedly- and promptly had to bring up a hand to stifle his moans as Erik pulled down his breeches and took his cock in his mouth, the sight alone sending shivers down Charles’ spine. Beneath his grip, Erik hummed, getting to work with his tongue and fingers to coax Charles to hardness. Almost as if he had done so before, he pressed down on the base of Charles’ prick and sucked intently at the tip until it was swollen and red, his eyelashes fanning out and throwing delicate shadows over the high juts of his cheekbones.

Charles drew in a deep breath through his nose, gaze glued to the display in front of him. The King of Genosha, kneeling between his legs and sucking him off. Who could have possibly guessed at such an outcome only hours ago?

“There,” Erik’s voice came at last, and he leaned back to glance shyly up at Charles as though looking for confirmation. “You’re not as broken as you think you are, your Majesty.”

Charles cocked an eyebrow, put off by the certainty in Lehnsherr’s voice. “Well, why don’t we put that to the test before we start making assumptions?”

Erik shot him an icy glare. “You make it hard for people to let you see the good in yourself, Charles of Westchester.”

Oh, and if that wasn’t the straw to break the camel’s back. Again, Charles tugged at Lehnsherr’s hair, using less care this time around so Erik would finally sit up and cease looking at him like that.

“Then get on my cock if you’re so desperate to prove me wrong,” he hissed, ere he grabbed the other man around the waist and pulled him into his lap, their chests pressed flush against each other and making for better access to Lehnsherr’s mouth. Fingers still knotted tightly into the Genoshan King’s hair, he crushed their lips together, uncaring for Lehnsherr’s muffled groan of surprise. Between them, Erik’s hard prick was digging into Charles’ side, and a shudder wracked the King’s whole body as Charles closed his hand around his arousal and squeezed.

“ _Gods_ ,” moaned Lehnsherr into their kiss, pressing impossibly closer, and then, “Off, off,” his shaky fingers coming up to undo the buttons at the collar of Charles’ nightgown.

They only parted so Charles could raise his arms and Erik could pull the offensive fabric over his head, and then they were back on each other, Charles tasting the beads of sweat on Erik’s shoulder while Erik nibbled on Charles’ earlobe. All that could be heard throughout the room were their quiet pants and stifled moans, always conscious of the easily roused guards in front of the bedroom door.

Charles found that the cold had long since seeped from his fingers.

Suddenly, Erik broke away from their deep, wet kiss. “I want your cock in me. Now.” Turning his head to scour the room in search of _something_ , he bared the creamy white arch of his neck to Charles, who seized the chance with both hands and started peppering greedy kisses all along the exposed flesh.

“Where is that pot of salve I had Lady Darkhölme deposit in here for me,” Erik murmured, more an absent-minded mutter than a real question, and Charles froze in what he was doing.

Heart palpitating, he asked quietly, “You demanded for Raven to do _what_ for you?”

“Ah, there it is.” With a pleased smile, Erik snapped his fingers, and a metal tin soared over from the cluttered nightstand to slap into his palm. When he twisted back around, he met Charles’ gobsmacked expression with a nonchalant shrug. “Your dear sister turned out to be just as invested in my plan as I. She was a great help – you should be proud of her.”

Charles snapped. “Proud of-? Why does everybody seem to know about this plot except for me?” he hissed, grabbing onto Lehnsherr’s wrist and holding on tight. “What game is it that you’re playing, Lehnsherr?”

There was more amusement than menace in the Genoshan regent’s eyes now as his gaze flickered down to Charles’ fingers keeping him in place. “The long game. Now please, if you would prepare me.” And with a flourish, he presented the pot of salve to Charles.

Charles didn’t twitch a finger to do so. Instead, he leaned in close, so close it sent a shudder down Lehnsherr’s spine, and whispered, “You might think me a cripple, and a modest, well-behaved mind-reader, but it’s for good reason that I have stood my ground on my throne for all these years. If it comes to the worst, I won’t hesitate to tear right through your thoughts and unearth all your little secret and lies, no matter how ground-breaking or unimportant they might be.”

“How charming of you.” His heavy-lidded gaze locked with Charles’, Erik gently pulled from his grip and pressed himself flush against Charles’ chest. The heat of his body grew dizzying. “And how ravishing. If only you let yourself go more often, I wouldn’t even have to resort to such ludicrous games. 

“ _Games,_ ” Charles grumbled, but took the presented pot of lubricant from Lehnsherr’s hand. “Fine then. But I demand an explanation as soon as possible.”

“Of course.” The tin’s lid peeled back with a wave of Erik’s hand, and then he took Charles’ fingers and dunked them into the cool salve. “After you’ve fucked me well and thoroughly, yes?”

Charles felt his cheeks flush crimson. “And by the Gods, keep your voice down.”

Erik chuckled, but complied. Nudging his knees further apart and pressing impossibly closer to Charles, he took a corner from the pillow Charles had used to prop himself up and stuffed it into his mouth before burying his head at Charles’ shoulder. Then, the muscles of his bared back flexing beneath Charles’ gaze, he reached behind himself, spread his buttocks apart and waited.

The salve was still cool from the morning chill. Charles scooped some of it onto his fingers and slathered it evenly around Lehnsherr’s hole, his heart leaping into his throat when the man pushed a low, stifled whine and pressed back into his touch.

“Patience,” he murmured into the soft white of Erik’s hair, then dipped a finger in. Erik clenched down on him, his insides searing after the bone-chilling cold of the morning air as Charles started pumping in and out, soon adding a second, then a third digit.

Beneath his other hand, Erik’s ribcage reverberated with muffled moans and keening sounds. A heady mixture of arousal, elation and just a tad bit of pain poured off him, making Charles’ thoughts spin and drawing low, shushing croons from his lips.

By the time the chapel’s clocks struck half to nine hours, the make-shift gag had slipped from between Erik’s lips and he was mouthing at Charles’ neck, Charles’ collarbone, anywhere he could reach as he ground back against the fingers working him open. Charles was just kneading the lovely curve of his arse when he gasped, “Now, my King, now, I’m ready, I can take it.”

Charles brushed the pads of his fingers against the spot he had learned made Erik squirm and watched in fascination as Erik’s back heaved in a dry sob. “Are you certain?”

Instead of an answer, the King of Genosha reached between them and pumped Charles’ prick back to full hardness. Then, after exchanging a last glance with him, he drew Charles’ fingers from his arse, aligned the tip of Charles’ cock with his hole and slowly lowered himself onto it.

Charles hardly felt more than a tingle sparking up his spine, but the sight of Erik alone had him push a low, throaty growl of possessive arousal. Gasping for breath, the King of Genosha was taking it all beautifully, his eyes rolling up into his head as his thighs fluttered and he leaned back, Charles’ grasp on his waist being the only thing keeping him upright. His glinting hair was plastered against his forehead, slick with sweat.

“So good for me,” Charles crooned on a whim, smoothing an appreciative hand down Erik’s side. “So beautiful sitting on my cock.”

He was promptly rewarded with a low moan and Erik bending down to capture his lips in a deep, desperate kiss. All thoughts of gently coaxing Erik into moving were defenestrated as Charles pressed back, let Erik’s tongue slip past his lips and drank in his quiet moans and groans.

“Please,” Erik murmured when they had to draw back for air, “please, come in. Read my mind. I want you to know how good you feel inside of me.”

Charles faltered. “Are you-?”

Erik wetted his lips, nodded. “I’m sure.”

There was an intensity, an honesty to his green-grey gaze that made Charles discard all doubts, manners and conventions. Gingerly, he rested his forehead against Erik’s and closed his eyes. And just as Erik started to move, sliding up and down on Charles’ prick, he delved past the flurry of his louder thoughts and into the epicentre of his mind storm.

Charles’ breath stuttered in his throat. He had predicted the orderly, polished nature of Erik of Genosha’s mind. What he had not been prepared for was the sheer intensity of emotions springing forth from cracks and ripples in the thought pavement, colourful as freshly blooming flowers.

And oh, how ardent they were. Attached to bright memory strands, they burned, searing between the overwhelming lust suffusing Erik’s entire being as he fucked himself on Charles’ cock.

“Hold me,” he gasped, his grasp sweaty on Charles’ hands as he placed them on his waist, “take me. Take what’s yours.”

The pads of his fingers digging so deeply into Erik’s freckled paleness that they would be sure to leave welts, Charles complied. One hand at the nape of Erik’s neck, pressing his mouth into the crook where Charles’ neck joined his shoulders to muffle Erik's cries of pleasure, he used the other to guide the King of Genosha steadily up and down his prick.

Heartbeats faded into minutes as time became meaningless. Erik was lightly drooling onto Charles’ shoulder now, pushing a quiet “Aah” every time Charles pressed him down onto his cock. Beneath them, the sheets were sweat-soaked, and the temperature in the room had risen significantly.

And maybe it was because of the heat, or because of Erik’s sweet, sweet moans, but Charles missed as the bells tolled a quarter to nine hours, then the very hour itself. Minds stirred in front of the door, bustled and hustled to and fro, and he brushed them aside with the mere blink of an eye.

The King of Genosha was all that mattered. His sweat-soaked hair brushing against Charles’ neck at every movement, his hand clamped tightly over Charles’ shoulder, his breathy gasps as his thighs quivered with each pump of his hips. Mesmerised, Charles brushed his hand up Erik’s spine-

-and the door to the room sprang wide open, revealing a dozen servants standing to attention behind the doorsill.

Erik shouted. Charles shrieked, even as he had the presence of mind to scoop up the heavy comforter and throw it around Erik to protect their modesty. At the head of the crew of maids and pages, Moira clapped her hands to her mouth and stared.

“Forgive me, your Majesties,” she whispered through her fingers, “but I thought you were keeping an eye on the time.”

Erik let out something between a snort and a giggle, and Charles turned his head to find his partner in crime laughing silently.

One eyebrow arched, he looked back at the gaggle of servants. “Well, what are you waiting for? Scuttle. Give us half an hour more. And close the door behind you.”

Whispering among each other, the more prude ones blushing furiously, the servants filed out of the royal quarters’ antechamber. Moira curtsied quickly, before she backed out of the room and pulled the heavy oak doors closed behind her.

The last thing Charles saw of her was her face, pinched up comically in the effort not to burst out laughing.

“Gods,” he groaned when at last they were alone again. “It is now only a matter of minutes before the whole court will know.”

“All the more reason to finish quickly and go make a public statement before the rumours get out of control, yes?” Quickly, Erik discarded the comforter to the side and started moving again.

“You can’t be serious,” said Charles, and it was more statement than question. “So this was your great plan? For half the servants in this palace to catch us – quite literally – in the act?”

“You don’t- unh- you don’t see me saying no,” Erik panted, taking himself in hand as he ground back on Charles’ prick, a lovely shade of abandon overtaking his facial expression.

Charles sighed, pushed Erik’s hand away and took it on himself to stroke the Genoshan regent’s gorgeous cock.

Erik pushed a surprised moan. “I wasn’t finished-”

“You soon will be,” Charles murmured, grabbing Erik by the scruff of the neck and bringing his head to rest on his shoulder again so he could watch the workings of Erik’s back muscles. “And then you will have all the time in the world to explain.”

“I-”

“Hush now.” And in a sudden rush of confidence, Charles sought out the part of Erik’s mind where his ability to form words lay and turned it off.

As soon as Erik became aware of his predicament, he pushed a groan so loud Charles was scared it would send the servants flying right back into the room. To his great surprise, however, it only seemed to enhance Erik’s arousal, the man panting wetly against Charles’ shoulders as he worked himself on his prick with no way to make himself heard.

“Oh, you like this,” Charles murmured, breathing heavily himself as he pumped Erik’s cock, “like being used, like being unable to say no, yes? We should do this more often.”

And just like that, Erik came, a mute scream dying on his lips as he jerked in Charles’ grip, silently sobbing against his shoulder. For a moment, Charles let himself get lost in the sensation, all sense of up and down and right or wrong lost, ere he pulled back and composed himself.

“You _do_ like this,” he murmured, gently releasing his grip on Erik’s mind.

It took Erik a minute before he spoke.

“What I was saying…” He lifted his gaze to meet Charles’, eyes glazed over with afterglow, and smiled. “Our friendship, this alliance between our kingdoms. Since we’re both yet to take consorts to sire heirs to our thrones, would it not be much more accommodating if we sealed our allyship with a more permanent bond?”

Charles blinked. Suddenly, his heart beat high and fast in his throat.

“You’re proposing marriage.”

“There’s nothing that speaks against it.” With the haze of pleasure wearing off, Erik’s face scrunched up in a rather pained expression as he heaved himself onto his knees and let Charles’ prick slip from his arse. Then, he tilted his head and looked at Charles in anticipation of his response. “Or is there?”

Slowly, Charles shook his head. Erik’s hair was terribly mussed, streaked with sweat and come, and his lips were swollen where Charles had been not all-too gentle with his teeth. Purple welts littered his collarbones and shoulders like rose petals on snow.

Charles had just bedded the King of Genosha, having been bamboozled into using him as he should only have used a true lover. The realisation didn’t sting quite as bad as it should.

“I think we should come to an agreement eventually,” he told Erik, biting back a laugh when the King of Genosha cupped his cheek and, without further ado, drew him into a wet, hot kiss that tasted of success and satisfaction.

Charles thought that in time, he could very well get used to Genoshan methods of negotiation.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are lovely, but if you leave a nice comment you're bound to make my day 🙏


End file.
